


(Plunge) Into These Twisted Months

by xobarriers



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Also he's a dick, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Don't read this for Brendon he sort of dies immediately thanks, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xobarriers/pseuds/xobarriers
Summary: Frank takes a moment to grab his gun and rummage through his desk for a fresh round of ammo. He’s not about to walk into the future without a way to protect himself.“I’m coming for you, Gee,” he whispers.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffinz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffinz/gifts).



> Work title taken from lyrics to If Winter Ends by Bright Eyes.

> _The year is 4211._
> 
>  _Time travel, invented in 2889, has joined interplanetary travel and molecular reduction as a top contender for the highest player in the tourism industry. People want to witness the events they learned about in their history classes; it’s considered great fun to watch any event that changed the world._
> 
>  _All tourists are confined behind walls erected by SpaceTime Travel AgenciesTM; the leading luxury time tourism agency, they deliver “fun and safe vacations for any budget!” (ST-T Agencies Website, Ⓒ4210). Tourists can experience the past without directly interacting with it- keeping customers and the space-time continuum safe, after all, is a priority for the tourism industry as a whole._
> 
>  _Unfortunately for the poor, poor billionaires in charge of ST-T AgenciesTM, not everyone is thrilled with the concept of paying to see the past indirectly. A few enterprising individuals (smart enough to build time machines and stupid enough to ignore the consequences) have taken the opportunity to catapult themselves wherever they damn well please._
> 
> Direct interaction with the past - or, god forbid, direct interaction with the future - is unsafe and definitely not recommended (UN Council on Space and Time Travel, 2976).
> 
>  _Anyone who actually studies time knows that it is fragile at best. The last thing the world (already suffering from the effects of climate change left too long unattended thanks to a certain country) needs is another continuum failure or the reappearance of an ancient or futuristic disease._
> 
>  _That’s where SafeT Co comes in. Most people view them as time janitors (don’t risk calling them that to their faces, though). These individuals spend their days cleaning up the continuum, working to ensure the safety of current humanity. It’s an exhausting job; the consistent travel through time takes its toll on the body. Most retire young._
> 
>  _These individuals are hired directly by the UN._
> 
>  _Some, frustrated by low pay and lack of appreciation, take entirely illegal side jobs. They have access to the best machines and know how to use them- even if it’s dangerous, they’ll travel to quarantined areas and pick up “souvenirs” for their black market buyers. These souvenirs often pay more than an entire year’s salary._
> 
>  _For the most part, though, the workers at SafeT Co value their responsibilities over the money they could be making._
> 
>  _Without them, time travel would be a far more dangerous operation._

The first thing Frank hears when the machine releases its grip on him is another siren. He winces and slowly stands, legs rubbery, fingers shaking. It’s too soon to travel again- he’ll have to delegate this one to Gerard.

“Hey, man-”

“I’m on it,” Gerard responds, flashing Frank a distracted smile. His hands are already moving; flying over the dash. “You good? You look like hell.”

“It’s just the fucking warp. I’m getting too old for this shit, dude.”

Gerard abandons his efforts for a moment, shooting a concerned glance over his shoulder. “Any side effects? If you need to take some time off-”

Frank shakes his head firmly, neglecting to mention the pressure headache building behind his eyes. “No, I’m good. Just need a minute to come down from that last jump. Where are they sending you this time?”

“Uh… looks like back to the 80s. God, that can’t be good. I’ll be back in a few, okay? Sit down - I’ve got some tea in my locker, you can help yourself - it’s super calming. A nice mint and chamomile blend. Is there anything I can do before I head out? The 80s can wait for a bit, god knows it’s waited this long-”

“I’m okay, Gee,” Frank interjects. “Seriously. I’ll be here when you get back. Go save the day.”

Gerard pulls a hilarious face - Frank’s sure he meant it to be serious, but Gerard’s never been good at serious - and steps forward onto the mat. His hand hovers for a moment over the launch button. “You’re sure?”

“Certain. C’mon, man, it’ll be fine.”

He finally seems to acquiesce, his fingers landing on the button. There’s a silence, a sensation like all the air in the room is being… turned over, is the best way Frank can describe it, and then the space where Gerard was standing is empty. The only disturbance left is the dancing of the room’s dust particles, swirling around each other as they flow into the spot where Gerard’s body was. 

Frank turns his attention to himself for a moment. He digs through his pockets and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen he’s stored there recently - the headaches are becoming much more frequent - and dry swallows three. They leave their slightly bitter residue behind in his throat, and he coughs to clear it up. Gerard’ll be back any minute, and it’s better not to let him know about the headaches. He isn’t ready to retire. 

Behind him, the door swings open.

“Yeah, man, I’m gonna quickly make this - oh! Uh, hey, Frank.”

God, he hates that voice. Frank turns towards the door, doing his best to maintain a pleasant expression. Not easy when you’d just as soon punch the recipient of that pleasantry. “Brendon,” he greets. “What’s up?”

Brendon sneaks a sideways glance at the machines. Frank’s muscles tense.

“I have - uh - a new assignment. Just need to borrow the machine for a sec.”

“Gerard’s using it.”

“Oh! Uh, that’s fine. I’ll just… go after he comes back?”  
Frank narrows his eyes, looking Brendon over slowly. The guy can’t hold eye contact; he isn’t geared up for a trip, and one hand is locked into a tight fist by his side.

“Hmm. An assignment, huh? Where to?”

“Uh-”

“Listen, kid, if you’re gonna lie to me, you need more confidence. Where the fuck are you planning to go?”

“It’s nothing!” Now, Brendon’s voice is full of something that masquerades as righteous indignation. Frank could laugh.

“Look, do you _want_ me to contact Brian? I’m not one for snitching, but I’m not about to let you just waltz wherever you please. I get that you’re new, but you aren’t fucking stupid enough to do the one thing you’ve been warned against- fuck, man, the first thing we learn here is that you don’t go anywhere you haven’t been told to go.”

“But-”

“I get it man, I really do. But don’t put the rest of us at risk for whatever stupid stunt you’re about to pull.”

Brendon’s hand flies towards his face, catching him in a stinging backhand that Frank definitely isn’t prepared for. He jerks away, nearly falling out of his chair; say what you want about the kid, but he can definitely hit. 

“What the fuck, man-”

In two steps, Brendon’s standing by the keyboard and typing furiously. 

Frank blinks back the stars in his eyes and stands. “Get the fuck away from there-”

His hands stop moving, he gives Frank a smug, insufferable grin , and he reaches out to slap the button.

“Gerard’s using tha-”

Too fucking late. Brendon’s gone, and a dizzy, alarmed Gerard reappears in his place. 

“Frank?”

He rushes forward, pulling Gerard away from the machine. “Fuck, fuck, where the hell did that asshole go? I’m so sorry, Gee, he- that fucker hit me, I wasn’t- sit down, c’mon, I’ll figure out where he went.”

“What- what happened? I was almost done, and-”

“Brendon hijacked the fucking machine, ‘s what happened. I’ll get him back, get him in huge fucking trouble, and then I’ll go finish your case. It’s okay, just rest.” Frank’s headache wasn’t going to like it, but he wasn’t about to let Gerard finish up the assignment when he was this disoriented. 

“Side job?”

“Most likely. Come on, sit down.” Frank guides Gerard to his chair and takes a moment to squeeze his arm before returning to the machine. “Oh, shit-”

Mother _fucker_. The date flickering on the machine is definitely not one he recognizes. Brendon must be dumber than he thought.

“What?”

“This idiot went to - fuck - 6750.”

“The future?” Gerard’s voice cracks. “Fuck, let me call Brian.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Frank mumbles distractedly, already typing. He’d get Brendon home, and then he’d give him the dressing down of his life. 

Gerard passes close by him, pausing by the machine. “Should we put our suits on? In case he brings something back?”

Frank nods, taking a moment to zip his up and settle the mask over his face. He hates how stale and shallow his breath feels, but it’s definitely better than exposure to some unknown. Gerard does the same, shooting him a small grin before covering his mouth. 

God, Frank loves that grin.

Gerard heads for the comm, and Frank presses the return button. He is so ready to scream at Brendon.

“You fucking idiot- oh!”

Frank flinches backwards, his eyes widening. That… that’s not Brendon.

The thing on the mat is hunched, skin sloughing off, no hair left on its mangled and emaciated body. It takes a step forward, raising its head- fuck. Its eyes are dead and empty, but those brown irises are unmistakably Brendon’s. 

Frank doesn’t move. Neither does the thing that used to be his coworker. 

“Gerard-” he whispers, slowly backing away. “Gerard, stay where you are.”

His hand slowly creeps up to his waist - _shit_. His stomach falls. He had left his gun sitting on the side table. 

The thing - Brendon - cocks its head and takes a single, shuffling step in Frank’s direction. 

Gerard meets Frank’s eyes, sending him a silent question that Frank can’t quite understand. He pulls his gaze away to glance at the creature.

Less than a second later, Gerard is moving. He throws himself across the room, reaching for the keyboard connected to the machine. Before Frank can react, he’s already typing a short string of code and slamming his hand down on the button. Right as he does so, the creature’s hand latches on to Gerard’s wrist. 

They both disappear. 

“Gerard? No, no-”

Frank rushes to the machine, horrified. How could Gerard be so stupid?

He shouldn’t do anything. There’s nothing he legally _can_ do; he isn’t qualified for an extraction. He can’t bring Gerard back, not without risking too much. He has no way of knowing what might happen if he pulls Gerard out. He could be in the same state as Brendon, he could be infected with a virus, he could be killed. 

Frank feels the first wave of tears welling up. He swallows back the lump in his throat and desperately scans the keyboard.

He knows what he _should_ do. He should contact his superiors, explain the situation, and step away. They’d quarantine the area forever. Nothing in or out. Gerard would never come back.

The thought of losing Gerard strikes him as more frightening than the potential consequences.

He can’t let that happen.

Frank takes a deep breath. He steps away from the machine and locks the door.

He can’t just pull Gerard out without knowing what he’s getting into. 

Almost on autopilot, his hands trembling, he reprograms the machine. He’ll give himself three days to find Gerard. The machine will bring him back, and only ten minutes will have passed in the present. Providing that neither of them are seriously injured, and providing that nobody checks up on him in the next few minutes, they’ll be okay. He’ll just fake the report. Make it seem like only Brendon broke the rules. He can manage it.

Frank takes a moment to grab his gun and rummage through his desk for a fresh round of ammo. He’s not about to walk into the future without a way to protect himself.

He returns to the machine. He never thought he would do this; he’s followed the rules to the letter for ten years, after all. If anyone finds out about his deviance, he’d be fired in a heartbeat. In any other situation this would give him pause, but… it’s Gerard. He’d do anything to keep him safe.

“I’m coming for you, Gee,” he whispers, finalizing the settings and stepping onto the mat. “Hang in there.”

He presses the button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again!!
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear from you guys! Comments, criticism, anything you'd like. Writing's one of my favorite things to do, and hearing from you makes it a million times better <3


	2. Chapter 2

Almost immediately, Frank can tell that something is off.

He can’t quite pinpoint what it is. He seems to be in the middle of the woods. It’s still light out, but the light is muted- like the sky is covered in clouds, but- different, somehow. There’s not a cloud in sight. The entire sky just looks… faded. He doesn’t know how else to describe it.

He takes a step, and the ground squelches under his foot. 

It looks solid enough, but feels like he’s standing on a mattress. He cautiously tests it a few times, and it holds his weight, although it continues to sag, enveloping the bottom of his shoes. He shudders but chalks it up to mud.

Time to test the air.

He tugs the small kit out of his pocket and sets it up with practiced ease, flipping switches and twisting dials until the settings are right. The tiny machine beeps at him a few times; initial readings seem good, with a stable amount of oxygen and no measurable contaminants. He lets it continue running for a deeper diagnostic. He never takes his mask off before the air is confirmed safe to breathe.

Frank balances the machine in his palm, ducking underneath a branch and glancing around. There are no signs of life. Everything, besides the sucking sound of his footsteps, is silent. Strange.

Gerard must be somewhere around here. Time travel is never perfect, but the machines are fairly reliable; if the same settings are used on two different trips, the end destinations are within several hundred feet of each other. Unless Gerard ran, he would be close by.

Frank is hesitant to risk it, in case sound might attract attention, but he needed to find him. “Gerard?” he calls, keeping his voice as low as he can. “Gerard, are you there?”

Silence.

He swallows and continues to walk, making slow, ever widening circles around his point of entry. The ground keeps pulling at his feet. 

“Gerard?”

After about twenty minutes of circling, the machine beeps again. Frank inspects the results and tugs off his mask, taking a deep, relieved breath. Fresh air is infinitely better than the stale oxygen he’d been breathing. 

The air smells sweet, like rotting fruit. He can’t help but wonder what he’s standing on.

Frank risks raising his voice a little more. “Gerard?” 

Still nothing. 

Frank knows, logically, that Gerard is probably safe. He’s brilliant and well trained; if anyone can survive a drop like this, it’s him. He can’t help but feel a thrill of fear, anyway.

“Gerard, are you there?”

*****

Frank ends up settling down for the night about a mile’s diameter out from where he started. He swallows a few nutrition pills - not nearly as satisfying as a meal, but they’ll keep him alive - and spreads a tarp out onto the ground. It’s surprisingly comfortable. 

He can’t relax enough to sleep for more than five minutes, though. He keeps jerking awake, certain that somebody’s watching him. There’s never anybody there. It stays totally silent and oppressively still and dark. He feels like he’s in one of the horror video games that Gerard loves to play, like slenderman or a demon is going to step out from behind one of the trees around him at any moment. It’s a wholly unsettling sensation. 

The sky finally starts to lighten to a soft gray, and Frank abandons the possibility of a good night’s rest. He packs up his things, as quietly as he can, and sets off again. 

By the time it’s bright enough to see well, he’s in an entirely different part of the woods. The trees have thinned, and the ground seems slightly firmer. He feels safer. 

“Gerard?”

For the first time, he hears a faint noise off in the woods. He freezes.

It could’ve been anything, but he can’t help but hope that it’s Gerard.

“Gee?”

Nothing.

He slowly heads in the direction the sound came from, abandoning his circles in favor of investigating the noise. “Gerard?”

The noise repeats, and Frank speeds up. He sets his hand on his pistol’s grip. “Gerard!”

Finally, _finally_ , he hears his name. “Frank?”

Gerard sounds shocked, and a bit guarded. “Frank, is that you?”

He could’ve cried. Frank sprints towards his voice, barely registering the ground growing softer under his feet. “Where are you?”

He sees a figure through the trees, hurrying towards him. After a moment, he slows. “Gee?”

It is Gerard, that’s for sure, but- he looks like hell. His clothes are shredded, he’s covered in dirt, and his face is so thin that Frank can barely believe his eyes. Something went very wrong on this trip. 

Gerard slams into him, clinging hard enough to bruise. “Frank? Frank, you came-”

Frank hugs him back as tightly as he can, alarmed at Gerard’s newly slender frame. He’s shaking. 

“Fuck, Gerard, are you okay? What happened to you?”

Gerard doesn’t let go. “Thought I’d never fucking see you again, fuck- I’ve missed you so much, Frankie, I-”

He sounds like he’s tearing up, and Frank abandons all the questions he has for a moment in favor of simply holding him close. “It’s okay, Gee, I got you. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Thought you had quarantined me in,” Gerard mumbles, close to tears. “Why didn’t you? Where have you been?”

“Where have I been?” With everything that Gerard says, Frank grows more and more uneasy. “I- I’ve been looking for you since you disappeared. It hasn’t been that long-”

Gerard stiffens in his arms. “Hasn’t been that long?” he repeats disbelievingly. “I’ve been here for weeks, Frank.”

Frank pulls away, his stomach turning. “Weeks? But- I-”

He nods slowly. “Almost two months. I’ve been counting the days- I knew nobody was coming for me, but… I didn’t want to give up.”

“Gerard, I saw you yesterday! In our office- what do you mean, two months?”

Gerard’s face is extremely pale. “Yesterday?”

Frank nods. “Gee- fuck, sit down, you look like you’re going to faint. Do you have any pills left?”

“Used the last one a few days ago. I didn’t think-” Gerard breaks off. “Do you- do you have any?”

Frank tugs the pouch out of his pocket and pours several into Gerard’s hand. “You haven’t been eating much, have you?”

“I didn’t want to leave this area to look for food, just in case someone wanted to bring me home. I- shit, Frank, I never thought I’d see you again.” Gerard wipes his eyes roughly, staring at the pills in his hand. “Never thought I’d be happy to see these, either.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank whispers. “I didn’t know it felt like that long to you. The continuum’s gotta be all fucked up here.”

“Why didn’t you quarantine me?” Gerard looks up, meeting Frank’s eyes. “You broke protocol for me.”

“I couldn’t do it, Gee.” Frank feels exposed under Gerard’s gaze. He ducks his head. “I thought about it. It’s what I always told myself I’d do. What I’d want anyone else to do for me. But… god, I couldn’t stand back and agree to never see you again. I _couldn’t_.”

“Frank-” Gerard’s whisper is soft, as raw as Frank feels. “Will they find out what you did?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, shrugging slightly. “But I don’t really think I care, either. I’d do it again.”

He stays silent for a moment. “I’d do it for you, too. But- I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

“It’s not your fucking fault,” Frank says forcefully, looking up at him. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s Brendon’s.”

Gerard flinches.

“What happened to Brendon?” Frank asks after a moment, cautious. 

“He tried to bite me. After we showed up here. I shot him.” Gerard’s voice is flat and curiously emotionless. “He’s dead.”

Frank isn’t sure if it would hurt or help if he hugged Gerard. He settles for gently touching his shoulder. “Not your fault. I would've done the same.”

Gerard shrugs, but presses into his touch for a moment. 

“Hey- what’s it like? Being here?”

“Quiet. I haven’t seen anyone. I don’t know where Brendon went when he first came here, but- whatever he became, I haven’t seen anything like it.”

“I’ll get us out of here,” Frank promises. His voice is firmer than he expected it to be. “I programmed the machine for three days. It’ll pull us back soon.”

“We don’t know that,” Gerard points out. “Remember? The continuum is fucked.”

Fuck.

Frank leans against him, feeling a bit small. “I know. But it’ll happen eventually. I know that for sure.”

Gerard wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll be okay.”

“So- what do we do now? I didn’t plan for this shit to happen.”

“I don’t know,” Gerard admits. “I guess we look for shelter, first? And then try to find food?”

“Yeah. Fuck, Gee, ‘m sorry.” Frank takes a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. “I wish I had gotten here sooner.”

“Hey, hey, no-” Gerard breaks off, shaking his head and pulling Frank closer against his side. “Listen, it’s not your fault. You came as soon as you could. Not your fault that time’s fucking with us.”

Frank lets himself cling to Gerard for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay.”

“We’ll be okay,” Gerard repeats, his voice soft. “C’mon, Frankie. Let’s find somewhere to stay the night.”

Frank nods, squeezing Gerard’s hand and standing. He pulls Gerard up after him. 

They set out into the woods, taking a slow and wandering path through the trees. 

Frank breaks the silence after a few minutes of travel. “I really don’t like the way the ground feels, here. Like we’re walking on sponges.”

Gerard nods, his face scrunching up. “Fuck, me neither. It’s not right. And the way shit smells, too- it’s like everything here is rotting.”

“I can’t help but wonder if it _is_.” Frank kicks at a stick, and shudders at the ensuing soft thump. “Fuck, that’s creepy. I wonder what happened.”

“Probably some bullshit. I doubt it was nuclear - the fallout should’ve stuck around. Maybe something we haven’t discovered yet.”

“That’s a cheery fucking thought,” Frank grouches. “Whatever it is, it must’ve fucked with the people here. They turned into those _things_ , after all.”

Gerard goes quiet for a moment. “How do you think Brendon changed?”

“I don’t know. Don’t think there’s any way of knowing, really.”

“He looked so empty,” Gerard murmurs. 

Frank glances sideways at him. “Not your fault, man. None of this is.”

“I know.” Gerard’s never sounded so unconvincing. 

Frank itches to hold him again. “C’mon, it’s okay. How much of this area have you explored on your own?”

“A bit. Haven’t found anything but trees and rot.”

“Damn, I can’t wait to get out of here. I--”

Frank breaks off as he hears a faint snap coming from their right. He immediately crouches, pulling Gerard down with him, and does his best to keep behind a fallen log. 

Gerard nudges his side and mouths, “What was that?”

Frank shrugs, trying to regulate his breathing. Another snap, this one echoing closer. He slowly tugs his gun from its holster. 

“Frank--” Gerard’s whisper is barely audible. “Careful, please--”

He motions for Gerard to stay where he is and shifts to his left, peering around the trunk for the source of the noise. At first, everything is calm. Deceptively so. He doesn’t relax. 

From the corner of his eye, Frank catches the slightest movement, flashing from behind a tree for a split second. He flicks the safety off. Taking a slow, deep breath, he moves into a crouch, his gun at the ready.

“Frank--”

“Shh,” he whispers. 

Another blur of motion; whatever may be approaching them is blocked by the trees. Frank shakes his head, frustrated. 

A louder snap rings out. This one is far too close for comfort. He feels the first hot pricks of anxiety crawling down his spine. 

The brush rustles, sounding as if something has moved on the other side of the tree right in front of Frank’s face. He raises his gun. Although he’s still trembling a bit, both from fear and anticipation, Gerard’s presence beside him grounds him enough to give him the courage to stand, take two quick steps to the side, and level his gun.

The figure on the other side of the tree chills his blood. It’s even more warped and twisted than Brendon was, with a gaping hole in its jaw and a wound on its shoulder that looks as if a wild animal has been gnawing on the rotting flesh. Its skin, covered in open sores and lacerations, is a muted, sickly gray. The smell of decay instantly hits Frank’s nostrils, and he fights back the urge to gag. 

The figure raises its head. Both eyes are gone, leaving bloody holes behind in the center of its ruined face. It takes a stumbling step in Frank’s direction, swaying on legs that can barely support its weight.

Without pause, Frank fires. His bullet hits the creature’s forehead, jerking it backwards with a spray of inhumanly dark blood and purpling tissue. It falls, crumpling in on itself, slamming into the forest floor. It doesn’t move.

Still, Frank’s not about to take any chances. He jerks Gerard to his feet and pushes him away from the creature, his gun warm in his hand. “Go,” he hisses, hyper aware of every noise their feet make on the forest floor. “C’mon, Gee, run.”

Gerard looks a bit stunned, staring at the creature. Frank tugs him away and then they’re both running, putting as much distance between them and the fallen _thing_ on the ground as they possibly can. The gun wasn’t exactly subtle; if these creatures can hear, Frank knows he might as well have just sent up a flare. 

He prays that they can’t move quickly enough to catch up, squeezes Gerard’s hand - still locked tightly in his grip - in an attempt to encourage him, and keeps running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long to post!! I've been at my parents' home struggling to keep up with (newly) online classes for the past couple weeks. I hope all of y'all are safe and healthy - if you're worried/stressed/scared/bored during this quarantine, feel free to reach out! Message me on tumblr, twitter, or instagram @xobarriers anytime. I'm here for you guys.
> 
> On another note, I hope you like this chapter! I'd love to hear your opinions. Thanks so much for reading! <3


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